The Beginning of Everything by Kristen Ashley Page 0,143
smiled down at me affectionately.
I kept muttering for I had the ability to do no more. “Your weight feels nice.”
“This is good, you’ll be feeling it a great deal.”
I shivered.
His smile got bigger.
“And you are very warm,” I told him.
“This is all well for you, my Silence. Our days are hot, our nights are cold.”
“I’ve noticed that.”
“Silence?”
“Yes?”
He took his hand from my hip so he could use his thumb to brush across my cheekbone.
And then he said, “Thank you.”
That was what he said.
I felt like I would cry.
His head came toward mine, but when I thought he’d kiss me (and it must be said, I very much wanted him to kiss me), he slid his bristly cheek down my smooth one and continued in my ear, “Your trust means much to me. I treasure it. More than any chest of gold or pouch of jewels. Your pleasure, so freely offered, means much to me too, and I treasure it as well. Not as much as your trust, but it’s important you know it means a great deal to me.”
Yes, I definitely could cry.
“Mars,” I whispered.
“We will choose wisely when we bring others to our bed.”
I blinked at the dark overhang.
“But at first, for a time, I will only have you before I take another. And you will only have me before I allow another to have you.”
Others?
To have him?
And me?
Oh gods.
The Firenz way of marriage.
No.
“Now,” he stated, lifted his head, touched his mouth to mine, then angled up, taking me with him, “it is time to get you to your own bed before I get further ideas.”
He pulled me off his bed, toward where he tossed my gown.
And I moved with him.
Automatically.
He snatched up my panties and handed them to me.
I suddenly felt entirely exposed and quickly bent to step into them.
When I straightened after smoothing them over my hips, I saw he was wrestling with the “acres” of material of my gown.
“Mars, um…the others,” I began.
He turned to me with the skirts of my gown bunched in a way he could pull it over my head.
Which was what he did, forcing me to struggle my arms through the dress to get to the top opening.
It would seem he had practice doing such as that.
My belly twisted.
He performed this task while speaking.
“I will take arse for you, if that’s what you desire to see. Though it is not normally my choice. I am like Lorenz. If it tantalizes you, it will do the same for me. Though the Trusted, you should know, Silence, are not available to you, except Basil, if he is to your wanting, for he will not take you, only me. But if there is a warrior of mine…”
He trailed off, turning me after I shoved my hands through the sleeves, and he began to close the buttons at my back.
I was staring at the lit lamp on the dresser on that side of his bed, my gaze drifting, noticing in the peach of the walls there was a slightly darker motif that was barely discernible.
It looked like cherry blossoms.
Or blossoms of something.
When done with my buttons, he turned me again and framed my neck in his hands.
“Do you understand this?” he asked, staring down at me.
I did not.
Not any of it.
“Yes,” I murmured.
He smiled and noted, “I must remember this stupor you fall into after climaxing. It is very endearing, but should I not finish with you, the wait would be excruciating.”
Climax.
So that was what it was called.
Apropos.
Truly.
“I will endeavor to…next time…recover much more quickly,” I stated, sounding stilted and not myself.
He bent, touched his lips to mine, then to my nose, my forehead, before he moved away a spare inch, again smiling at me.
“Don’t. If I can move you so deeply that you behave like an undead, I will then go out and slay a dragon.”
“Slay a dragon?”
His gaze warmed (or further warmed). “Your pleasure empowers me, piccolina.”
That was nice.
Not as nice as it should have been.
But it was nice.
“I will walk you to your room, my monkey,” he offered. “I would do it regardless, but you might lose your way in this state.”
This should have been amusing.
I did not laugh.
“Your slippers, Silence,” he remarked.
I blinked up at him.
He twisted at the waist and reached into the bed, rescuing my slippers that had fallen off.
He then dropped to a knee in front of me, and I lifted my skirts and offered my feet one by one as he slipped them on.